


Operation Cure Makoto

by harusjiyuu



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2572796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harusjiyuu/pseuds/harusjiyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Makoto catches a bad cold, the Iwatobi gang takes turns trying to get rid of it. Everyone's got something different to try, but each one only serves to make him more miserable. How will he fare as he does his best to muddle through practice...and all of his friends' "remedies?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunMoonAndSpoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunMoonAndSpoon/gifts).



> For SunMoonandSpoon! I hope you like this - it was a lot of fun to write (sorry Makoto...)!
> 
> Also, huge thank you to makokjiyuu, who read this in pieces as I wrote it, gave me feedback, and reassured me over and over that it wasn't terrible! =w= Seriously, I appreciate it a lot...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gou is the first to try to "cure" Makoto.

Makoto Tachibana usually had plenty of energy for swim practice. Even after a particularly harrowing school day, his enthusiasm for swimming came naturally. He loved coming to club after his classes ended, seeing his friends, his team who had come so far with him since they started the swim club last spring.

Today, however, he found himself wanting to go home and take a nap more than anything else. A blanket of fatigue had crept over him as the day wore on, and by his last class, he was having trouble keeping his eyes open – and not just because it was English, his worst subject. He would have liked to think it was just because he didn’t sleep well the night before, but he didn’t think that was the only reason. Or rather, not the ultimate cause for it.

That morning, he’d woken out of his restless slumber with a scratchy throat and a vague tickle playing at the back of his sinuses, and no matter how much he swallowed or rubbed his nose, neither lessened a bit. In fact, over the course of the day, they worsened, and he kept trying to stifle sneezes so as not to disturb his classmates. Although, every time he looked up afterwards, he caught Haru frowning in his direction, to which Makoto replied with a reassuring quirk of his lips, telling him not to worry.

It wasn’t cause for concern. Makoto had come to practice, and he really was fine. It was only early May, the cherry blossom trees having just finished shedding their flowers, so it was entirely possible he had allergies....though he’d never had them before.

As he briefed the team on what they would be working on this practice, his brain seemed to be having a little bit of trouble catching up. He had to think each of his statements through when normally, his instructions came naturally. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what he wanted to say, just that the words were having trouble coming out. He hoped none of the others noticed.

“So,” he said, glancing around at his teammates, eager with the exception of Haru, whose gaze was on the shimmering water behind Makoto. “Today we’ll work on our times and forms, since it’s still early in the season, and...then...” He trailed off, the tickling in his sinuses spiking once again, and quite inconveniently. Blinking it away, he continued. “Then we’ll see h...how we’re doing c-compared to—“ He broke off abruptly, ducking into his elbow to stifle another sneeze – almost, anyway. He nearly succeeded, but it was getting more difficult.

He opened his eyes to find another of Haru’s glares directed at him, though he was sure that up to this point, Haru hadn’t been paying any attention to what he was saying at all.

“Bless you, Mako-chan!” Nagisa said emphatically, rocking onto the balls of his feet, blond curls bouncing on either side of his face.

Makoto chuckled, mildly embarrassed. “Thanks,” he said with a good-natured smile, knuckling the tip of his nose. “Anyway, we’ll be gauging our progress from here to see exactly what each of us should focus on while we train for regionals.”

“Right,” Gou chimed in, clipboard in hand. “Since you barely did any swimming over the winter, you need to work hard now! You can’t afford to slack off at the beginning or we’ll never get where we need to be!”

“Gou is right,” Makoto said, resting his hands on his hips. “We have to work hard if we’re planning to make it to nationals!”

“Right!” Rei and Nagisa replied in unison.

“And for after practice, I made some food for all of you, since your lunches still aren’t up to code.” Gou pointed with her pen at a table by the door of the club room, laden with covered bowls and dishes of various sizes.

Rei’s face paled at the memory of the last meal Gou made for them. Makoto made a face that started as a grimace, though he tried to appear more grateful. Even Haru’s expression shifted to one of mild disgust. All of the food on the table looked harmless enough, but it had last time, too.

Nagisa leapt forward with no shortage of excitement. “With strawberry protein powder?! Or chocolate?!”

“Absolutely not!” Rei exclaimed before Gou could answer. Rei wilted, one hand over his eyes, groaning, “I never want to eat protein powder again.”

Gou scowled at him, then turned back to Nagisa. “I didn’t put it in the food, but I brought some if you want it. But not until after practice.”

Nagisa howled, punching a fist in the air and grabbing Rei’s wrist, dragging him toward the pool against Rei’s cries of “Wait, Nagisa-kun!!” Makoto laughed airily, glancing at Haru, who, to his surprise, had not dashed for the water long before Makoto finished briefing the team. Instead, he was staring at Makoto, a slight frown still in place.

Makoto’s expression softened. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

Haru said nothing, only deepened his frown, and strode toward the water, pulling his goggles down over his eyes. Makoto followed, though he didn’t really feel like swimming, or doing much of anything. His body felt sluggish and heavy, even without the water’s resistance, and a dull ache blossomed behind his eyes.

But he was the captain, and the club needed him to set an example. Besides, he wasn’t lying when he told Haru he was okay. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t swim, he just lacked some of his usual motivation.

Dipping into the water, he shivered, breath catching in his chest. He had forgotten how cold it was. They’d only opened the pool a few weeks ago, early this year, in hopes of attracting new members. This was the first week they were officially swimming in it for their own practice.

Pushing off the pool wall, Makoto stretched his arms in a leisurely backstroke to warm up. The longer he stayed in the water, the more his body got used to the temperature and formed a rhythm with his strokes and breathing. However, staying in the water also started making breathing uncomfortable. By the time he had done a few laps, his chest was tight and he resisted the need to cough when Gou called to him with timer in hand.

“Makoto-senpai, you’re next!” She stopped at the head of his lane, thumb poised over the start button as Makoto neared the starting block. “Whenever you’re ready. Swim two laps, and I’ll record your time.”

Makoto gripped the metal bar beneath the platform. He took a moment to catch his breath, but not too long, lest Gou question it. His energy was declining quickly, much to his dismay, though practice had barely begun. Hoisting himself up – first one leg, then the other – he waited for Gou’s signal.

“Ready...”

He curled tighter against the bar, preparing to dive.

“Go!”

Makoto sprung off the side of the pool, plunging head first into the frigid water, dolphin kicking until his face broke the surface. The water rushed over his head, rolling off his swimming cap, a light rumbling and splashing in his ears as he moved his arms in steady circles, swimming with all his strength. He kept his breathing in check, one breath for every two kicks, conscious of the fact that he hadn’t quite gotten it under control before he dove.

He passed the overhead marker, descending once more beneath the water for the turn. By the time he was halfway down the lane again, he felt his energy starting to abate. He could finish both laps, for sure, but it was taking its toll more quickly than he anticipated.

By his second turn, his chest felt constricted again, muscles tense, and it became more difficult to control his breathing. Gritting his teeth, he took the second lap stroke by stroke, cutting the water with the side of his hand, knowing his form was slightly off, his speed slowly decreasing. It felt like the water was thickening, weighing down his legs like a ball and chain.

He dove again after the marker. His lungs burned, and he took a breath too early, inhaling a mouthful of water. Coughing and spluttering, he tried to keep up his pace despite that he could no longer regulate his breathing, or breathe much at all.

After a couple of seconds, he had to stop, and twisted himself around, treading until he reached the lane divider. He hooked one arm over it, tugging his swim cap and goggles off while he barked into his other elbow. Even after the water had left his respiratory system, he couldn’t stop, and the fit was dizzying. At some point, he felt a hand on his back, and he knew he wouldn’t be spared the others’ notice.

It took him a while to catch his breath once he finished, looking up to find Nagisa and Rei in the neighboring lane, watching him with concern. So it was Haru’s hand against his back. He peered to the side and offered him a sheepish smile, met with brows drawn together in an expression of unease as he removed his hand.

“Mako-chan, are you okay?” Nagisa asked, leaning closer, as if he were about to inspect Makoto’s face.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Makoto said, voice raspier than he would’ve liked. He cleared his throat. “I just swallowed some water at the turn.”

Rei picked up on the rough quality to his voice immediately, pursing his lips before he spoke. “Are you feeling well, Makoto-senpai? You look a bit pale.”

“Huh?” Makoto said, taking a moment to comprehend the words. “No, I’m okay!” Although he said it – and it still wasn’t untrue – he certainly wasn’t in peak condition. He was still a little shaky from coughing so much and exerting himself when he was already worn out, and his lungs and sinuses burned from the chlorine.

Rei wasn’t fooled. “Still, perhaps it would be a good idea for you to take a break. Can you swim the way back?”

“Of course,” Makoto said with a placating grin. “I really am fine, don’t worry.” 

Nevertheless, a short break might do him good, and he swam to the side of the pool, pushing himself out of the water and drawing his knee up onto the concrete.

“Sorry, Gou,” he said, taking the towel she offered and drying his hair.

She shook her head. “I’ll time you again later,” she said. “Though from what I could tell, you need to work on pacing yourself and regulating your breathing better. You have a lot of power in your stroke, so you started off fast, but by the second lap, you were slowing down.”

“Ah, I’ll work on that,” Makoto said, not wholly invested in her advice at the moment, but not about to make excuses and tell her he wasn’t feeling well. He had barely admitted it to himself. At the same time, he was having some trouble ignoring it as he walked to the bench and sat down, towel draped over his shoulders. His fatigue had grown, his throat raw from all the coughing, and it hurt when he swallowed.

Gou was timing Haru now, and Makoto was amazed at how fast he was, despite that he’d barely gotten to swim over the past several months. Then again, Haru always had been that way, however little speed and times mattered to him.

Nagisa and Rei had also gone back to their swimming. Makoto hadn’t heard what Gou told them to work on, but he bet that it was more form-based for Nagisa, and endurance-based for Rei, who still couldn’t quite complete the team’s regular training regimen, though his technique was perfect.

Makoto remained on the bench for a while longer, watching his friends as they swam. He was glad they hadn’t gotten into the more difficult aspects of practice yet. Winter training, though it kept their muscles toned, wasn’t as rigorous as training during the season when they swam every day. At this point, they were still in such early phases of their regular training that they hadn’t even formed a new schedule yet.

As he observed, he felt the infernal prickling return to his sinuses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to will it away. He wouldn’t be able to stifle this time, he was sure, and he didn’t feel like trying. After a few minutes, he gave up, bracing himself and pitching forward to sneeze into his hands once, twice, and again, as if his body were trying to rid itself of the chlorinated water in his nose. It was painful, and a sharp ache spiked in the side of his head.

He should probably get back in the water pretty soon, he thought, wincing, but he wasn’t ready to be timed again. In fact, if he were, he would probably be even slower than before right from the start. Even resting for a while didn’t seem to bring back any of his energy.

But, he reminded himself, he was the captain, and he couldn’t skip out on practice for something this minor.

He rose from the bench, preparing himself for the icy water. He hesitated before jumping in, his body shuddering at the thought of once again being enveloped in cold right after he’d warmed up, if marginally.

Still, he did it anyway, gasping when he was in up to his chest. He would take it easy this time, he decided, and settled into a slow crawl, if only to say he still was practicing. It wasn’t a bad thing to use other strokes either – his crawl could use improvement, especially since he was thinking of entering one of the freestyle races at regionals.

However, after a few laps of this, he once again inhaled a mouthful of water when he got careless, sending him into another coughing fit.

“Maybe we should end practice early today,” Gou suggested, taking note of Makoto’s condition. “It’s probably better to wait until the water warms up to have longer practices, anyway.”

Makoto nearly slipped getting out of the pool this time, though he was deeply grateful that they were done for the day. He already felt much worse than he had before the start of practice, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to keep swimming, considering that they’d barely been in the pool for an hour and already he’d had to take a break.

Not to mention, almost immediately after getting out of the pool, he sneezed yet again, and this time couldn’t avoid the eyes of the others.

“Mako-chan, are you getting sick?” Nagisa asked, peering at his face and getting a little too close for comfort. Rei clasped Nagisa’s shoulder, guiding him a step back.

“Nagisa-kun,” Rei interjected. “If Makoto-senpai is unwell, you shouldn’t make him more uncomfortable.”

Makoto smiled to put them at ease. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I might have caught a slight cold from Ran and Ren, but I’m fine.”

“It was more than a ‘slight cold,’” Haru said, speaking for the first time as he appeared behind Makoto, drying off his hair, and leaving the towel draped over his head. “They were in bed for almost a week.”

“Y-yeah,” Makoto said, protesting weakly. “But they’re kids, so their bodies aren’t as good at fighting that kind of stuff. I’m sure it won’t be as bad in my case.”

Though he didn’t reply verbally, Haru gave him a look that said he definitely wasn’t buying that, and apparently neither was anyone else.

“If you are sick,” Gou said, “You should have something to eat so you keep your strength up.” She gestured to the table of food, now unwrapped and ready to be eaten...and the containers of protein powder sat right beside it.

Gou led the team over to the table, where each of them took a seat in the folding chairs around it. There were rice balls, noodles, sandwiches, and all sorts of carb-heavy foods. Makoto, though he couldn’t deny it looked delicious and pleasantly devoid of protein powder, realized as he surveyed the spread that he wasn’t very hungry. Nagisa, on the other hand, dug in immediately, heaping it onto his plate in an indistinguishable mess and reaching for the protein powder.

“Save some of that for Makoto-senpai,” Gou told him as he shook both the chocolate and strawberry containers over his food.

“Eh?!” Makoto yelped. “I-I thought you said you weren’t putting it on the food.”

Gou turned to him. “I’m not, but if you’re getting sick, you should eat it. It will give your body extra strength, so you recover more quickly.”

Makoto’s heart sank as he watched the fine pink powder fall over Nagisa’s meal, and fervently hoped that he would use it all anyway. His hopes were dashed when Nagisa passed him the open container, apparently under the impression that he was not the only one in the club who didn’t find the stuff...off-putting.

“That’s okay,” Makoto said, raising his hands in front of him. “I’d rather not...”

“Makoto-senpai,” Gou said sternly, taking the container from Nagisa and shoving it under Makoto’s nose. “You’re the captain. If you miss practice because you’re sick, our team will be at a loss. Haruka-senpai might be our best swimmer and vice captain, but if he were to take over your role as captain, we wouldn’t get anything done. If you want to get better and stay healthy, you have to take extra precautions!”

Makoto bit his lip. Though Haru barely seemed to notice her complaints, only bringing another mouthful of noodles to his lips, Gou was right. The team needed its captain. Without him, things might stay in order for a day or two, but if he had to take too much time away from the club, they could lose ground, and they wouldn’t be able to match Samezuka in the relay. As much as he detested protein powder, he was more concerned with his team.

So, after a distressed sigh, he took just enough food to satisfy Gou, and sprinkled as little strawberry protein powder as he could over the top. His features twisted with distaste at each bite, trying to hold his breath so he wouldn’t have to taste the overly sweetened powder and the way it mixed with the salty and meaty flavors of the noodles and sandwiches so potently. 

At one point, he breathed some of the powder, choking and coughing until it shook his frame. Haru placed a hand in the middle of his back until it died down.

“I don’t think this is the best way to go about helping Makoto-senpai feel better,” Rei said, eyes narrowed in sympathy.

Gou heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose we could try something else. I brought vitamin powder, too, so—“

“No!” Makoto shrieked in mortification. The last thing he needed was to have two kinds of disgusting powder forced upon him.

“Maybe it would be better if we went home once we’re finished,” Rei said, watching Nagisa load up his plate and help himself to the abandoned chocolate protein powder again. “That way, Makoto-senpai can get some rest, and we’ll be in better shape tomorrow.”

“That’s a good idea,” Haru said, ignoring the ‘once we’re finished’ part of Rei’s statement and standing. “I’ll take Makoto home.”

“Haru,” Makoto protested. “We can’t leave right now, we’re still eating.”

Haru stared blankly at him. “You’re not. And I’m finished, so let’s go.”

Makoto opened his mouth to speak, but only managed a few stuttered noises. He wanted very much to go home, finish his homework as quickly as possible, and go to bed, but it simply wasn’t right for him to just get up and leave.

“It’s okay, Mako-chan!” Nagisa said around a mouthful of rice ball. “We’ll finish Gou-chan’s food, so you should go home and feel better!”

“We’re not holding practice anymore for the day, so you don’t have to stay,” Gou added, pouring herself a cup of barley tea.

Makoto hesitated. “If...you’re all really okay with it...”

“Of course,” Rei said, pushing his glasses up higher on his face. “We’re concerned about your health, and we’d much rather you take care of yourself than push yourself too hard and get injured.”

“Rei...” Makoto said, unsure exactly how to respond, but touched by his friends’ words.

“Come on,” Haru said, heading for the club room door, knowing Makoto would follow now that everyone had reassured him that it was okay.

Gathering their things from the club room, Makoto didn’t say anything as they left. He was exhausted, and didn’t have much energy for his usual chatter. The two walked home mostly in silence, the dusky light lengthening their shadows as they neared Makoto’s house. 

Makoto felt Haru’s eyes on him for most of that time. He wanted to tell him over and over that he was still fine, but wasn’t really up for another unconvinced glare.

When they stopped at the foot of the steps that led to Haru’s house, Haru didn’t continue walking. Instead, he waited until Makoto reached his own front door, then called after him. Makoto turned, hand still on the handle.

“Take care of yourself,” Haru said severely.

Makoto, about to reiterate that he would feel better by tomorrow, thought better of it, and gave Haru a gentle smile. “I will. Thank you for worrying about me, Haru-chan.”

The nickname earned him a deep scowl anyway, but Haru seemed placated enough to drop the subject for the moment, and ascended the stairs, leaving Makoto to himself.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto's cold worsens, and Rei and Nagisa take turns trying their own "remedies."

The next afternoon, Makoto was no better. In fact, his budding cold had worsened to a point where he was audibly congested and losing his voice, coughing so much that he couldn’t finish giving the team directions for the day’s practice. His body ached, and he was absolutely dreading the idea of diving into the frigid pool water again, knowing that if Gou timed him today, he’d probably have trouble swimming just one lap.

“There’s no way we can hold practice like this!” Gou said, exasperated, once they had half dragged Makoto over to sit on the bench, against his feeble protests. “We’re not holding our regular club meeting today. Instead, I’m declaring an emergency meeting – who has ideas for how to cure Makoto-senpai?”

“G-Gou, it’s really not necessary...” Makoto said weakly, lifting his head, already slumped forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open, and had to prop his cheek on a fist.

“Actually,” Rei said matter-of-factly, “I did some research and found that there are several yoga poses that are said to help with relieving symptoms of the common cold and influenza.” He held up a couple of stapled pages retrieved from the club room. “I brought the instructions with me, so perhaps we could all try them. Yoga is also helpful in maintaining flexibility and muscle tone, so it would be beneficial to everyone, not just Makoto-senpai.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Nagisa said, bobbing in place, throwing his arms out to each side and flailing around in what appeared to be an imitation of complicated poses. “My sisters and I do yoga all the time! It really helps with swimming, and it’s fun!”

“Can we do it in the water?” Haru asked, peering over Rei’s shoulder at the papers.

Rei’s expression fell. “No...I don’t think so.” He pointed at something on the page. “You see, you have to start lying on your back, so it won’t work if you’re in the water.”

“It would work,” Haru insisted, deadpan.

“I...wouldn’t recommend trying it,” Rei said, obviously unsure of how to proceed in dissuading Haru.

Makoto kneaded the spot between his eyebrows. He was so congested, it made his head hurt, and he most definitely was not up for yoga. He didn’t think his body could stretch that much on a good day, let alone one where walking a straight line was a challenge.

“Rei,” he said. “I don’t think yoga will work...”

Ignoring his doubts, Gou appeared with several rolled up and slightly dusty mats in her arms, her long red ponytail swinging behind her as she ran. Makoto hadn’t even realized she’d left.

“I found these in the club room,” she said. “I’m not sure what they were used for, but they’re kind of like yoga mats.” She handed them out to each of the boys, who unrolled them and shook them out a little before laying them down on the ground near the pool, each a couple of feet apart. Makoto reluctantly accepted his after a last ineffective attempt at refusal, unfurling it between Haru and Rei. He didn’t really want Nagisa to get careless and kick him or something, so this seemed like the safest place to be.

“Gou-san, would you mind reading how to do the positions?” Rei asked, handing her the pages.

Gou accepted the papers and rifled through them, raising an eyebrow at what Makoto assumed were the pictures. “Are you sure these will help?”

“Of course!” Rei replied emphatically. “Yoga is good for both the mind and body.”

Gou, looking doubtful, didn’t reply as she scanned the directions, waiting for the team to get in position. “Okay,” she said. “The first one is called the bridge, and it’s supposed to help with chest congestion. You start lying on your back, and then bend your knees so your feet are flat on the mat, hips width apart.”

This part was easy enough, Makoto thought, staring up at the fluffy clouds drifting across the sky. If this was all he had to do, that would be fine – it was pretty much the same as lying down anyway, which was what he really wanted.

“Then raise your hips slowly and reach for your heels with your arms straight out under you. Hold the position for one minute,” Gou summarized. “And don’t look around. It says you could hurt your neck.”

This was the part Makoto had trouble with. His legs trembled as he lifted his hips, and his back ached as it arched. He tried to keep the correct form as Gou described it to them, but found it so awkward that he wobbled to the side when he reached for his heels. As the minute dragged on – much longer than it ordinarily would have – Makoto felt the strength steadily seeping from his muscles, tiring him out to the point where his arms and shoulders shook with the effort of keeping himself stable. When Gou told them to relax and lower themselves slowly back to the mat, Makoto nearly collapsed and landed on his arms.

“Do you feel any better, Mako-chan?” Nagisa asked, his head popping over Rei’s torso as he crawled toward Makoto, eyes wide, face set in a huge grin as it hovered over Makoto’s.

“Nagisa-kun, we’ve only done one pose so far,” Rei interjected, taking Nagisa by the shoulders and pushing him back to his own mat.

“Still,” Nagisa said, elbows tucked in close to his sides, fists poised in front of him. “If each one does something different, each one should make Mako-chan feel better! So? Did it?”

Makoto, though he was quite certain it hadn’t helped at all, offered a wan smile and coughed into his fist. “Um...maybe a little.” It was a blatant lie, which he hoped might make it so he wouldn’t have to do anymore of these exercises. They made the blood rush to his head and he was already getting dizzy.

“Then we should keep going!” Nagisa said, stretching out on his mat. Makoto’s heart sank. “What’s next, Gou-chan?”

“Well,” she said, referencing the sheet. “There’s the camel pose. With this one, you kneel and arch backwards. And then, you reach your hands back to touch your heels for balance.”

Makoto watched Haru complete the pose gracefully, head tilted back, eyes closed as if he were just enjoying the sun beating down on his bare chest. He was almost perfectly still, and he actually looked pretty comfortable. Rei seemed much the same, serene and unmoving, and Nagisa, though his eyes were closed, drummed his fingertips on his heels.

“Makoto-senpai, you’re not supposed to lean on your heels,” Gou said, startling him.

Makoto hadn’t even realized he was leaning on his feet, or that his shoulders were loose enough that they weren’t really supporting his torso anymore, and he sagged into the position. However, bringing his aching muscles back into it put enough strain on them that he bit his lip in discomfort. He wanted to just tell them that he didn’t want to do yoga or anything that involved moving, but his friends were doing this out of kindness and their desire to help him, and not just because he was the team captain. He would try, if only for them.

As he came down out of the pose, he hunched forward in another coughing fit, congestion rattling in his lungs. While the yoga may not be making him feel better, exactly, it certainly seemed to be opening his chest some.

“It sounds like it’s working,” Gou said, shuffling to the next page.

“Y..you could say that...” Makoto replied halfheartedly.

The next pose was much more difficult, and involved doing a near somersault backwards. Makoto, supremely off balance by this point, barely got his legs up over his head before he tipped to the side and fell over, sprawled beside Haru, who once again, looked like he’d studied the position before. Makoto was slightly relieved to find that Rei was also struggling with this one, having quite a bit of trouble straightening his legs out and proclaiming that it just wasn’t beautiful.

So they skipped to the bow pose, each boy lying on his stomach, grasping his ankles behind him. Haru, though his form was fine, wore a look of disgruntlement as he held the position, brows drawn in a deep scowl. Whether it was truly out of distaste for yoga or just his concentration, Makoto couldn’t quite discern.

Rei, on the other hand, reminded Makoto of a majestic ship, chin tilted up into the breeze as it ruffled his already disheveled hair, the sun’s glare reflecting off of his glasses. Beside him, Nagisa rocked back and forth, finding the pose more amusing than taking it seriously.

But Makoto was having increasing difficulty with doing the poses at all. In this case, his limbs were already so worn out that his hands could barely hold on to his ankles. His fingers kept slipping so his leg landed with a soft thud against the mat and the platform below it. Eventually, he did give up, folding his arms and resting his forehead on them, his head pounding from twisting his body in so many directions. He shivered, although it really wasn’t cold out, and wondered if he might have a fever. He was about to say he wanted to stop when Gou spoke again.

“This is the last one,” she said.

Well, maybe he could do just one more, if only to appease everyone. He raised his head, waiting for the directions, and hoping that maybe it was something simple to finish off. After all, had he been in better physical condition at the moment, he probably could have done them fairly easily, despite his muscular figure and lack of exceptional flexibility.

“Headstand,” Gou stated, and Makoto’s stomach dropped.

“Gou,” he said, trying to find the right words to say that he really, most definitely did not want to even attempt to stand on his head when he could barely stand on his feet. “I don’t think I’m really up for something like that right now.”

“We’ll help you, Mako-chan!” Nagisa piped up, springing from his own mat and leaping over to Makoto, who still hadn’t moved from lying on his stomach.

“I...” Makoto began, unsure of how to refute the suggestion. It was less that he wanted help and more that he didn’t want to at all.

“It will probably help your congestion,” Rei added, rising from his own mat and holding out his hands in a gesture offering his assistance.

Haru stayed seated on his mat, expression blank. He wasn’t about to aid in something that he also knew probably wasn’t a good idea, but Makoto wished he would get the rest of them to stop. It didn’t seem like they were about to listen to Makoto himself, anyway, considering each of his protests had only led to them doing more to try and ‘cure’ him. 

And so, he was forced to relent once more, sitting up to listen to Gou walk them through the steps to get into a headstand. Makoto tried his best to angle his limbs right and hoist himself into the pose without falling over, but found it impossible to do it by himself, relying almost completely on Rei and Nagisa to keep him upright. Each time they tried to let go, Makoto’s balance faltered. Everything around him spun and tilted, and his vision became spotty and dark. Not to mention, as all of the blood rushed to his head, it triggered the insistent prickling in his sinuses that, while the thickness of his congestion seemed to keep him from actually sneezing, had not left him since the day before.

Now, that didn’t seem to be the case. He sniffled in an attempt to get his nose to stop itching, but to no avail. He wanted to tell Rei and Nagisa to let him down, but he didn’t have time. Instead, as he tried to speak, his breath caught, and he convulsed with a loud, rather violent sneeze that sent him tumbling to the ground – or, more accurately, down on top of Haru, who did his best to break his fall and only uttered a soft grunt when Makoto’s knee made contact with his head.

“S-sorry, Haru,” Makoto groaned once he regained his bearings, the rest of the team huddled around him, deeply concerned.

“Are you okay?” Haru asked, helping Makoto into a sitting position, which took a lot more effort than either of them would have hoped.

Makoto touched his head gingerly. “Yeah, I’m fine, I think.” The congestion was even more evident in his voice now, and it was clear that the headstand had only made it worse.

“Here, Makoto-senpai,” Rei said, holding out a thermos that he must have brought out and set aside when he went to get the yoga instructions.

Makoto accepted it, pleased to find that it was quite warm, the gentle heat traveling from his palms all the way up his arms, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Relieved to have gotten what he assumed to be a hot drink, he uncapped the thermos filled nearly to the brim tea. The steam wafted up to his face, and he was vaguely disappointed that he couldn’t smell it.

“Can I...?” Makoto began, glancing from Rei to the reddish liquid, wanting very much for something to soothe his throat.

“Of course,” Rei said proudly, and Makoto raised the rim of the container to his lips. “It’s a special Ryugazaki family recipe that my mother has made for me on many occasions when I’ve caught a particularly bad cold. It will definitely help—“

Makoto interrupted him with a bout of ruthless coughs, after having gulped half of the tea. “Wh—“ He paused, swallowing and nearly choking on the word, eyes and nose streaming. Bringing the back of his hand up to cover the mess that was his face, he asked, “What’s in that?”

Rei raised his eyebrows, confused. “It’s a kind of spiced tea – cloves, peppercorn, and chilies. It’s meant to clear the sinuses.”

Haru, having grabbed one of the towels hanging off the bench, eased it into Makoto’s hands, guiding it to his face. Makoto tried to thank him, but his voice broke halfway through the first word, and he opted to blow his nose first – a feat which was not as easily accomplished as he initially believed.

“I don’t think it worked, Rei,” Haru said flatly, resting one hand lightly on Makoto’s shoulder.

“I don’t understand,” Rei said, downcast. “It works unfailingly for me.”

“Maybe Rei-chan didn’t make it right,” Nagisa suggested, putting himself directly in the center of the group with Makoto. Makoto kept the towel clamped firmly over his face, so as not to chance coughing or sneezing or so much as breathing on Nagisa when he was so close.

“Wh—of course I did!” Rei stammered. “My mother taught me herself!”

“Mm, but Rei-chan isn’t Rei-chan’s mom,” Nagisa pointed out, sticking his tongue out at him. Rei replied with more stuttering, babbling on about how it was a simple and foolproof recipe that he was sure even Nagisa could follow.

At this point, Makoto was starting to zone out, the spiciness of the tea still burning his throat. He’d always been rather sensitive to that kind of thing, and never even liked strong curry. If it was too spicy, he just couldn’t enjoy the flavor, though he had never had the misfortune to encounter a meal as hot as the tea that he’d just guzzled. He slumped, forehead resting against the heel of his hand.

“Makoto-senpai,” Gou said softly, mindful of his headache, though Makoto still jumped anyway. “Drink this.”

Makoto winced at the idea of drinking anything else right now, having made the mistake of trusting the tea just because it was warm. However, when he raised his head, she held out a bottle of water, cap already unscrewed, and he nearly melted at the idea of extinguishing the fire in his throat.

“Thanks, Gou,” he rasped, tipping the bottle to his lips. The cool liquid calmed the persistent burning, and he gasped once he pulled it away, extremely grateful for the cold drink. While it didn’t get rid of the heat completely, it still felt good.

“Ah!” Nagisa exclaimed, startling them all. “I forgot! If Rei-chan’s tea didn’t help, I brought something else!” Before anyone could respond – and before Makoto so much as processed what he’d said – he was up and running for the club room.

He returned clutching a small, round plastic container. Makoto, too weary by now to register the goings-on around him, didn’t see Nagisa unscrew the cap, bubbly enthusiasm still in effect. He barely heard Nagisa’s incessant babbling, only able to focus on the consistent and repeated pounding of his head thundering in his ears. He thought he heard the words “sneezing powder,” and snapped to attention when, out of his periphery, he saw a flash of movement and color.

Looking up was his biggest mistake. Immediately, it felt as though he’d been punched in the nose. His eyes watered, sinuses burning. He sniffled, rubbing his nose – did his skin feel kind of gritty? – and blinking several times in an effort to dispel the black stars dotting across his vision and assess what had just happened.

Nagisa was poised in front of him, kneeling with one hand on the ground for balance. The container was in his other hand, nearly empty. Rei knelt beside him in a frenzy, hands on either side of his head, shouting, arm covered in a fine powder.

Makoto didn’t have much time to understand the situation. The itch in his sinuses was maddening. His breath stuttered, and he was utterly helpless to stop himself from sneezing.

The first came so quickly that he didn’t even have time to angle away from Nagisa, and when it hit him, Nagisa jumped, exclaimed something Makoto didn’t hear, and proceeded to wipe his arm on Rei, who promptly freaked out as if he’d just touched a biohazard. Makoto tried to give him an apologetic look when he saw the expression of utter disgust manifest across Rei’s features, but his face crumpled again, and he was caught in the throes of a vicious fit.

He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, and he wished so very much that he could stop sneezing long enough to tell them he was fine, he’d be fine, he just...really needed some tissues. He buried his face in the crook of his elbow instead, lightheaded after the first seven, unable to breathe after eleven, and leaning on someone who was probably Haru at fifteen.

By the time he finished, just shy of twenty, he struggled to catch his breath, carefully shielding his face until someone pressed a handful of tissues into his palm. He hurriedly brought them to his face and blew his nose without any hope of being polite about it, wincing as he did.

“Did it work, did it work?” Nagisa chattered, eyes wide with anticipation, the vivacious blond somehow immune to the grossness of Makoto’s cold.

“Nagisa-kun, why would you think that would be helpful at all?!” Rei cried, hands out in front of him, palms up, fingers curled into claws as if beckoning Nagisa to give him an acceptable answer.

Nagisa drew back, not quite sheepish, but seeming now to grasp the fact that Makoto was in no state to speak at all, let alone answer his question positively. “My mom always uses it,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “She says it helps clear out congestion, and since it’s an herbal powder, it’s completely safe!”

“It doesn’t look safe,” Haru said, still supporting Makoto’s upper body on the front of his shoulder, though he sat almost straight himself. He glanced meaningfully at Makoto, who was now surrounded by used tissues and falling asleep.

Nagisa bit his lip, smile waning. “Sorry, Mako-chan...”

Makoto groaned in response, and Haru maneuvered him, slowly and gently, so he was once against sitting up on his own. When he spoke, his voice was nearly gone, congestion making it so the group could barely understand him. “Sorry guys...I don’t think it worked.”

Gou, stood over them with her hands on her hips, deep frown in place. “Of course it didn’t!” she said. “There’s no point in holding practice if you’re that miserable. Haruka-senpai, take him home.”

Makoto had no strength to protest, instead allowing Haru to lift him to his feet with a soft grunt at the effort. He swayed, and Haru kept a close watch on him as they trudged back into the club room, where Makoto changed, if clumsily. Haru simply pulled his clothes on over his swimsuit, and helped Makoto button his shirt.

After a quick goodbye to their friends, the two began their walk home, Haru keeping a close eye on Makoto. Makoto stumbled along in a hazy stupor, taking breaks every so often to cough or catch his breath or balance. More than once, Haru put a steadying hand to his arm, or grabbed the sleeve of his jacket so he wouldn’t fall over.

“You shouldn’t have gone to practice,” Haru finally said around the fifth time they stopped. They were more than halfway home now, just a little longer before Makoto would be able to sink into bed and rest. Fortunately, Haru had long since taken his schoolbag and slung it over his shoulder to give Makoto more chance at staying upright.

Makoto shook his head, hands on his knees, then winced at the sharp pain that exploded from his temple. “I’m the captain. I have to be there.”

“Not if you’re sick,” Haru replied, disgruntlement evident in his tone. “You should have stayed home.”

“N-no,” Makoto said feebly. “It’s not that bad—“

“It is.” Haru gave him an intense glare, and though Makoto might ordinarily try to refute it, Haru was more set on this than Makoto himself.

“Haru...I...” He trailed off with a sigh that came from his toes. The afternoon’s “practice” had taken a lot out of him, and he was about ready to sleep on the sidewalk. But he straightened and continued forward, Haru following after a few paces.

“It’s stupid,” Haru muttered. Makoto heard, but didn’t respond, in part because he couldn’t deny that maybe it was, a little.

At last, they reached Makoto’s house. Haru waited until he reached the front door and reiterated his statement from the day before, telling Makoto to be careful and take care of himself.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, opening the sliding door and offering Haru a weary smile. “I’ll go to bed early tonight and I’m sure it’ll start to go away after that.”


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's Haru's turn to make questionable decisions regarding Makoto's health.

Despite what he told Haru, Makoto’s cold did not start to go away the next day. He awoke with his nose running, head aching, and a cough that shook his entire frame. He’d gone to bed early, but his symptoms kept him up much of the night. In fact, he felt bad enough that he would have stayed home, if not for the fact that he was pretty sure he had a literature test today...which he’d barely studied for.

So he miraculously got himself out of bed, dressed, and climbed the steps to Haru’s house with some difficulty. He paused at the front door to regain his breath before ringing the bell, though Haru predictably did not answer. Makoto had hoped he might, if only so he wouldn’t have to climb the stairs to the back door, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped.

Entering without announcement – his throat hurt too much to speak – he opened the bathroom door just as Haru’s head broke the surface of the bath water. Makoto stepped to the side of the tub, bending and offering his hand as usual, though the motion made his body ache. When Haru looked up at him, face still half submerged, Makoto forced what he hoped looked more like a smile than a grimace.

Haru wasn’t fooled. He stood on his own, studying Makoto with deep blue eyes that bored into the taller boy’s green ones. Makoto shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t looked in the mirror that morning, but he was sure he looked pretty terrible, if how he felt was any indication. His eyes stung and felt puffy from lack of sleep, and his chapped nose was now a vibrant shade of pink. Not to mention, he was shivering, the bathroom being slightly cooler than the rest of the house.

“We’re not going to school,” Haru finally proclaimed, swinging each leg over the side of the tub and striding past Makoto for a towel.

“Wh—Haru...!” Makoto said, voice breaking in the middle of his friend’s name. “We can’t just—“

“You’re too sick to go,” Haru said flatly, as he toweled off his hair and stepped into the changing room while Makoto waited in the bathroom. “You probably wouldn’t even get to the front gates.” He opened the door for Makoto to follow, donning a light blue sweatshirt and pulling on his apron when they entered the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Makoto asked, watching as he took a large pot out from under the sink and set it on the stove beside the grill he used for mackerel.

“I’m making you breakfast,” Haru said, stepping past Makoto and opening the fridge. He took out an assortment of vegetables and set each one in a line on the counter.

Makoto’s stomach sank. “Haru, I’m really not hungry. And we should hurry and get to school – we’ll be late if we don’t leave soon.”

Haru stopped his preparations to fix Makoto with an immovable stare. “I told you we’re not going.” Abandoning the counter for the moment, he took Makoto by the wrist – taking care not to hold too tightly, mindful of Makoto’s existing discomfort – and half dragged him into the living room. There, he slipped Makoto’s schoolbag from his shoulders and dumped it at the foot of the couch, a gesture which Makoto deeply appreciated as he allowed his muscles to relax.

From there, Haru pressed a hand to Makoto’s chest, backing him up to the couch until he practically fell onto the cushion, arms flailing outward for balance. “H-Haru,” he protested, if weakly. “I can’t just...we have a test today!”

Haru paused, turning around in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning. “What test?”

“The literature test, remember? On Soseki,” Makoto said.

Haru sighed, saying as he disappeared into the kitchen, “That test isn’t until Monday. Stay home today.”

Makoto, though a part of him wanted to return to the kitchen with Haru, only draped himself over the arm of the couch, hands dangling over the side as he rested his chin on his bicep. He listened to Haru chopping the vegetables, the rhythmic thuk-thuk-thuk of the knife on the cutting board lulling him into a doze. Staying home sounded beautiful, and the longer he was awake, the harder it became to convince himself that he would be able to stay at school for the entire day without some terrible mishap. Still, it didn’t seem right for Haru to skip classes for his sake.

“Haru,” he called, or attempted to, words gravelly as they scraped his raw throat. “I can go rest at home. You should still go to school.”

“No,” Haru said, barely raising his voice enough so Makoto could hear with blocked ears. “I don’t want to go anyway. You’ll get better rest here. It’s quieter.”

Makoto, despite his weak objections, couldn’t deny the truth in Haru’s statement. It would be nice to be able to sleep without Ran and Ren waking him. Though he loved his siblings, they tended to play loudly and argue frequently enough that Makoto was sure that once they got home from school, he wouldn’t be able to rest very much at all.

“Well,” Makoto said, relenting, “If you’re sure...”

“I am,” Haru said, passing by the door to the living room and heading upstairs. He returned with a t-shirt and sweatpants, which Makoto recognized as a set of pajamas he’d left behind the last time he stayed overnight. “Change into those.”

Makoto hesitated, not keen on getting up, or moving at all. However, pajamas sounded much more comfortable than his school uniform. As Haru returned to the stove, Makoto removed his blazer and button down shirt, replacing it with the much softer cotton one, and flopped over on the cushions to change his pants. Once finished, he stayed there, huddled against the back of the sofa, too exhausted to get back up.

He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until he woke to the soft clink of dishes being set on the end table by his head. Shifting, he realized that at some point, Haru had draped a thick, fuzzy blanket over him, and he burrowed beneath it when the sun hit his eyes, shining through the window across the room.

The cushion dipped when Haru sat beside him, slipping a hand under Makoto’s bangs, palm to his forehead. Makoto leaned against the cooler touch. Haru’s hands were always on the cold side, even after he’d been cooking, and it felt really nice now.

“You have a fever,” Haru said disapprovingly, taking his hand back and picking up a bowl.

“Sorry,” Makoto breathed on a regretful sigh.

Haru nudged him gently to sit up, letting Makoto grasp his hand and helping him rearrange his limbs in a way that let him lean on the back of the couch without having to balance his weight while he ate.

“Don’t apologize,” Haru muttered. “Just eat.” He offered Makoto the bowl, which contained a rather delicious-looking soup of vegetables and....

“Haru...is that mackerel?” Makoto asked apprehensively, not touching the bowl.

“Yes,” Haru said. “There’s more over there.” He pointed to the end table again, upon which sat a plate of grilled fish. Of all the things Haru could have made...Makoto wished he had gone with a regular chicken soup or something, since he knew Haru could cook much more than just fish and fish-related dishes.

Makoto bit his lip. “Th-thanks, but...I’m really no—“ He was cut off by the spoon being unceremoniously poked between his lips. He raised his wrist to his mouth to catch the broth dripping from the corners, chewing the vegetables and salivating at the slightly oily taste of the fish. “It’s...good,” he said. “But the soup is okay by itself. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat the grilled fish, too.”

“Mm,” Haru grunted, but passed him the bowl. “Mackerel is good for you. It has protein and you’ll get better faster if you eat a lot of it.”

Makoto cringed. “That’s what Gou said about the protein powder...I really think I’ll be okay with just this,” he said, lowering his eyes and taking another bite of the soup to appease his friend.

Haru sighed, probably offended at Makoto’s comparison of mackerel to protein powder, but took the plate of grilled fish for himself. They ate in relative silence, save for the sound of Makoto’s spoon hitting the dish. Though he couldn’t deny that the soup was good, Makoto was rather sick of mackerel. He ate it nearly every time he came to Haru’s, which was very frequently, and it was sometimes a struggle to eat it on a good day. Now, as he swallowed each spoonful, he was thankful he couldn’t taste much, and focused more on the soothing warmth that traveled down his sore throat. 

In fact, the only real problem he faced was the way the heat and steam made his nose run. He had to stop eating every couple of minutes just to sneeze or blow his nose, and he was sure Haru was completely disgusted, whether he said so or not. After finishing the soup, Makoto drooped forward, burying his face in a double layer of tissues, eyes closed until Haru touched his shoulder.

“Do you want a bath?” he asked, eyes soft, brows raised just a little in sympathy.

The thought hadn’t occurred to Makoto before that moment, but now that it had been suggested, a hot bath sounded absolutely fantastic. He nodded, coughed in the space between them, doing his best to avoid any part of Haru. The last thing he wanted was to repay Haru for taking care of him by giving him his illness.

Haru rose from the couch and left the room. After a moment, Makoto heard the water running upstairs. He drifted toward unconsciousness, slowly but steadily, until Haru’s socked feet padded back down the stairs. Helping Makoto up off the couch, he led him up to the bathroom, where the tub sat, filled almost to the brim.

Haru left Makoto to undress and bathe in peace, but as Makoto did so, it occurred to him that the room was still quite cold. Suspicions aroused, he dipped one foot into the water. As soon as he did, he pulled it back, stumbling into the wall.

“H-Haru, it’s cold!” he cried, wrapping his arms around his torso and shivering.

“I know,” Haru said on the other side of the door. “It’ll lower your fever.”

“Haruuu,” Makoto moaned, head lolling into the wall. “My fever isn’t that high...A hot bath would be much better.”

“Water is water,” Haru said. “Just get in.”

Makoto groaned. His body already ached, and the room was freezing – to him, anyway – even when he did have clothes on. The last thing he wanted was to envelop himself in frigid water to make it even worse. He wondered if this was what Haru did when he was sick, taking cold baths when Makoto wasn’t around to make sure he took care of himself. Even the thought of being subjected to the cold water made Makoto want to just put his clothes back on and crawl back under the blanket.

Still, he thought, maybe he should just take the bath. He could make it quick and Haru would be satisfied, and then he could get warm under the covers again.

Steeling himself, Makoto inched forward, expression pinched as he stared at the water, conflicted. With a final shuddering sigh, he plunged one foot in, then the other, and sank into the tub, hoping if he got it over with quickly, the transition would be marginally less unpleasant.

It wasn’t.

The sudden chill made his chest tighten, and he broke into a series of deep coughs that made his chest ache. He tried to relax in the water, but his muscles only tensed up almost as soon as he consciously released them. Mild shivering gave way to all out shaking, the water’s surface rippling with the unstoppable tremors. It froze him to his core, and though he tried to pretend it was helping, there was no way this was benefiting his body at all. After about five minutes, curled into a tight ball, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“H-h-haru?” he called, teeth chattering and unable to keep the stutter out of his words. He wasn’t even sure Haru heard him until the bathroom door opened and Haru stuck his head in. “C-can I...can I run a h-hot bath p-p-please? I-I d-don’t think this is work-king.”

Before he’d finished asking, Haru was at his side, draining the water. He bit his lip, visibly remorseful as he knelt beside the tub. “Sorry,” he said as the drain gulped the water, gurgling loudly. He took a towel from the rack by the bath and wrapped it around Makoto’s shoulders once the water got low enough, giving him some sort of covering until the bath filled again.

Makoto smiled softly. “It’s okay,” he said, clutching the towel tightly as Haru turned on the hot water. “I’d just rather h-have a warm bath. I th-think it might help m-more than a c-c-cold one.”

“If you feel the water, it doesn’t really matter,” Haru murmured, adjusting the water to a more agreeable temperature for Makoto.

Makoto chuckled, which turned into a flurry of coughs. “Maybe, but hot water feels nice when you’re sick, don’t you think?”

Haru didn’t answer, which Makoto took as a yes. 

Haru took the towel away as the water rose, hanging it back over the towel bar. He set a folded blue facecloth on the edge of the tub and moved a tissue box from on top of the metal stand by the door to beside the tub. Makoto smiled his gratitude, which Haru pretended to ignore.

Even though the water was only up to his ankles, Makoto sighed, allowing his heavy head to roll forward and rest on his knees. Steam wafted up and around him, the new warmth wrapping around his hips, his waist, then his legs and torso, and it felt incredible. By the time Haru turned the water off, the entire room was foggy and thick, but not unpleasantly so.

Haru stood, leaving Makoto to enjoy his bath in peace and clean up the dishes from breakfast. Makoto stretched out when the door clicked shut against the frame, eyes closed as he basked in the humid atmosphere. He was unaware of the passing of time, dozing until the heat stirred up the itch in his sinuses. He sniffled, trying to will it away, but finding it to be rather stubborn.

Although he tried to tune it out, it only became more persistent, and soon enough he was at the mercy of another sneezing fit. He folded in on himself, nearly plunging his face beneath the water’s surface, eyes squeezed shut and tearing with the force of each sneeze, grateful by the end that Haru had relocated the tissue box to within his reach.

When he was finally allowed to relax again, he sank down until the water reached his chin. How had he managed to get himself sick? He was the swim team’s captain. He shouldn’t be taking baths when he was supposed to be at school, and especially not at Haru’s house. He could have taken care of himself and at least gone home first. He’d already cost the team valuable practice time while they tried to help him – sort of – over the past couple of days. He could at least be there.

But...he really didn’t want to leave the bathtub...or move at all. He was sure that if he tried to swim today, he wouldn’t be able to for very long. In fact, over the past couple of days, he’d probably caused the team more trouble just by going to practice.

He sighed plaintively. Maybe it was better this way, just for today, he thought, letting the water’s heat seep into his muscles. He lay there, dozing, until Haru knocked on the door.

“Makoto,” he called. “You should get out soon. Don’t fall asleep in the bath.”

Makoto chuckled softly. “I’m the one who’s usually telling you that,” he said, voice grating in his throat. He could practically sense the look of exasperation on Haru’s face before his footsteps faded off down the hall.

Reluctantly, Makoto stood, realizing only now that the water was considerably cooler than when he first got in. Grabbing the towel Haru had given him, he dried off and dressed as fast as he could, only tripping over his pant legs once before heading downstairs.

“You can stay on the couch if you want,” Haru said when Makoto, hair damp and sticking up in all directions, entered the back room where Haru was watching TV, homework spread almost untouched over the low table. “Or you can take my bed and I’ll stay out here so you have some quiet.”

Makoto shook his head. “The couch is good.”

Haru stood. “Then go lie down.” He brushed past Makoto to the living room, where he had set a plump pillow at the head of the couch, and shook out the blanket in invitation.

The taller boy settled into the cushions, burying his face into the pillow and clutching the blanket around himself when Haru arranged it loosely over him. Almost immediately, he was drifting toward sleep, eyelids drooping, breathing becoming shallow and even. 

Haru turned wordlessly to leave, but before he got more than two steps from the couch, Makoto’s hand darted from beneath the covers and grabbed the hem of his shirt. Startled, Haru backtracked, eyeing his sick friend expectantly.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Thank you,” Makoto yawned.

Haru huffed air through his nose. “It’s nothing,” he said, prying Makoto’s fingers from his shirt. “I’ll be in the other room if you need anything. Get some rest.”

Makoto was asleep and snoring lightly before Haru reached the doorway.


	4. Next Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the rest of the team catches Makoto's cold.

It took an extra day for Makoto to return to school, and a few more before he was feeling quite a bit better, but by the beginning of the next week, he was the only one who did. The rest of the team, save Gou, had all come down with miserable colds by Monday.

“I’m really sorry, everyone,” Makoto said, contrite, as they ate lunch on the roof.

He received little response. He had a feeling Nagisa had fallen asleep, lying sprawled on the ground, facing away from them, lunch untouched. Rei sat with his cheek resting on his fist, uncharacteristic of his usually carefully straight posture. However, his claims that slouching was bad for one’s back seemed to have been tossed to the wayside, as he did just that.

Haru, though he wasn’t asleep, was leaning with his back to the wall by the door, expression blank, eyes half-lidded. His chest jumped, and Makoto dug in his pocket for the travel pack of tissues he always carried, holding it out for Haru. Haru sneezed before he could take one, but seemed at least vaguely appreciative when he plucked one from the plastic, sagging into his hands as he blew his nose.

“Haruka-senpai,” Rei rasped. “You should cover your—“ He broke off, ducking into his own elbow, sneezing loudly as if in demonstration.

Makoto dropped the tissues in the center of their circle, and Rei reached for them without reservation, looking around as a light flush rose to his cheeks. There were only a few other students on the roof with them, and none seemed to notice, but Rei nevertheless shrank in embarrassment.

The noise seemed to have woken Nagisa as well. The blond boy stirred, rolling onto his back and staring blearily at each of his friends in turn, finally settling on Rei. “That was super loud,” he murmured with a yawn that turned into a dry coughing fit.

“Nagisa-kun...” Rei said, face in his hands.

Nagisa stretched with an exaggerated groan. “Mako-chaaan, why’d you have to sneeze on me? Now I’m dying...”

Rei raised his head, massaging his temple, unimpressed with Nagisa’s dramatics. “If you hadn’t spilled sneezing powder all over Makoto-senpai, perhaps he wouldn’t have sneezed on you.”

Nagisa cracked one eye open. “That was because you bumped my arm. I wasn’t going to give him all of it...”

“It was useless anyway,” Rei said on a long sigh.

“Guys...” Makoto chided, looking on with sympathy. He thought for a moment, taking in his team’s condition. They were barely awake, pale but for the pink tinge of their cheeks and noses, and certainly in no condition to swim if they could barely breathe out of the water . “I’m cancelling practice today.”

Immediately, Nagisa perked up, and Rei relaxed, obviously relieved. Even Haru seemed like he’d rather soak in the bath than swim today. 

“Thank you, Makoto-senpai,” Rei said, speaking for all of them.

Makoto shook his head, smiling gently. “Just take care of yourselves and get some rest, okay?”

Rei nodded solemnly, picking up a thermos of what Makoto assumed was the spicy tea and sipping it. Nagisa sat up and nodded, tired but finally opening his lunch and taking a bite of rice (which made up the majority of his not-quite-Gou-approved lunch). 

Haru, on the other hand, rose from his spot against the wall with a thick declaration of, “I’m going home.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Makoto asked, concerned as he remembered his own difficulties in getting home, even with Haru’s help when he his cold was at its worst.

Haru shook his head, wincing and pressing a hand to his temple. “I’ll be fine. Nagisa didn’t throw any sneezing powder in my face.”

“Haru-chan, that’s not fair!” Nagisa said, mouth full, a couple of grains of rice falling back into the bento box.

Haru ignored him, heading for the door. Makoto made a mental note to ask his mom to make some soup later for him to take to Haru. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to bring some for Rei and Nagisa tomorrow either. After all, he thought, they were his team, his friends, and after giving them all his cold, the least he could do was take care of them.


End file.
